Olvidados
by Raakshi
Summary: It's 2012, and a new threat is quietly sweeping America: A drug called "Black Velvet." A link to a dead man leads a BSAA agent to suspect that a nightmare that had started for her eight years ago is not yet over, and now she must track down the distributor of the drug before it's too late. But her chase will lead her into a vicious dance with time and the devil. Can she win?
1. Prologue

2012, the year the world would end, supposedly.

But the world as we know it had been on the brink of ending for many, many years, by the hands of madmen and women, rescued by chance and a hair. Pure evil resided around every corner and made its home and name in the form of violence, disease, and addictions.

Following the events in Africa during 2009, the world became quiet. Every country was focusing even more on rooting out the criminal undergrounds they unwittingly housed, seeking to get rid of the evils that preyed on their people and the people of other countries. For each country, the campaigns for each nation lasted only a year, give or take, before the progress of their respective missions stopped being reported, because everyone saw no change come of these efforts. Either people would stop caring, worrying instead about more apparent threats, or the news would find something else to cover.

The Americans wanted to get rid of all bio-terror crime and corruption faster than the other countries, since the top is where they wanted to be. The presidents came and went, and now a man named Adam Benford was in office, rising to a voter's favorite because of his promises to crack down on all home-grown terrorists, all drug-dealers and criminals to build a safer nation that could serve as a role-model for the rest of the world.

But as he took office, a threat was sweeping the nation (among others in the world, though it was a quiet one. A new drug was being dealt and abused, "Black Velvet". People were dying for it, figuratively and literally. It would give the users a high matched by no other drug, made them feel powerful, but it was physically demanding and cost the user's health and energy and physical stability. People would be found with blood dripping from their eyes and ears, with their muscles almost liquidating within their skin, with Black Velvet in their blood. Addicts who didn't suffer the most severe effects could be easily spotted as spots appeared on their eyes and their skin would develop splotches, but it was rare that anyone didn't died after the first few hits. The real knowledge of this substance came when teenagers, kids, got a hold of the dangerous drug. The government kept news about the drug quiet and sought help.

No one knew where the drug came from, no one would oust the dealers. When the BSAA was called to investigate possible bio-terroristic traits of the drug, they could only find one constant in all of the addicts' stories: the initials R. S.

These initials, noted as a signature of sorts on the drug, meant something to only a couple of members of the North American BSAA division. Familiar with the Kennedy Report, which detailed the actions of Los Illuminados- a terroristic cult-, these agents began to investigate the possible resurgence of the cult and the involvement of Ramon Salazar. The BSAA found issues in this investigation, as Salazar was confirmed to have been killed by Leon Kennedy, and there were no other links could be made between those events and the current issue. The symptoms of Velvet and anything to do with las Plagas didn't match up. The possible connections were listed as dead ends, reseting the search for answers.

But one of the agents couldn't let it go. Something seemed suspicious about what was happening in America. The drug only being distributed to Americans, the physical damage caused by it, the initials… she had to figure out the truth. She followed her lead right to Spain.


	2. Leads (Ch 1-1)

On a day like today, a hot summer one, it was clear that this was the biggest city in Spain. Madrid was bustling with people, natives and tourists alike, but the average citizen was not the concern of the female BSAA agent who wandered the streets. One of the American victims of Black Velvet noted his dealer said something about this city, about "going back home." It was the most direct lead she'd gotten these past few months of searching for the source of the drug, despite the clear issue of Madrid's population. For the agent, specially trained in field work, it shouldn't have been hard to find the next clue, especially since it was looking for her.

She wore dark sun glasses and a hooded black vest. Black shorts and sandals contrasted with her pale skin, making her look more ghostly than she normally did despite the exposure to the harsh Spanish sun. She wished she could've enjoyed this as a vacation, but things were about to get really dark. She had made a deal with the victim, offering the best medical care in exchange for his dealer's contact information. After some talking to the latter, the agent was able to set up a deal with him here in Madrid. There was some sort of base-of-operations in the country, she gathered from how he spoke, and she was determined to get in there.

She found a nice little shopping area, with benches, just like the place the dealer had described in their call. She sat and waited.

It wasn't long before she was approached. A man in a white suit sat next to her on the bench, facing the opposite direction. His hair was long and black, tied back, and his face was covered in a salt-and-pepper brush of beard and moustache. He spoke quietly, his voice the same as what she heard on the phone with its Spanish lilt. No middle men, it looked like.

"Do you have the cash?"

The agent nodded, still looking out into the crowd as she flashed a roll of green. They weren't real, just really good fakes, but the dealer didn't have to know that.

"Good. Come with me." He left, then she did.

They went down streets and side streets and alleys for almost and hour until they came to a non-descript door on a non-descript building in a non-descript place of the city. The dealer led her in, entering first. It was just an office, it seemed, with a bunch of boxes along the side. A desk with a couple of chairs on one side and a rolling chair on the other sat in the middle. The man took the rolling chair, leaving the agent to the normal chairs. It almost looked like an honest business.

"So you are seeking to acquire some of our substance?"

Again the agent nodded. _Using big words? What does he take me for, some teen twit?_

"Then you've come to the right place, girl." He looked her over with hungry eyes. He rolled over to the boxes and picked one up. "I know I already told you a cost, but I've changed my mind about that. I need something a little extra from you." He cleared his throat.

"What would that be?" the agent asked innocently. She sounded younger than she was, a benefit in a situation like this. He really did take her for a teenager.

"Take off those shorts." No romancing, no nonsense. Pity, she liked it when they played games with her. She turned and cradled her elbows in her arms.

"I don't know…" she had worry in her voice. _Come over here and get them off of me…_ She heard his chair roll. _Take the bait_.

"Now don't you worry, I won't hurt you…" She felt a hand on her leg. _Where's your other hand…?_ After a few moments the other hand found her ribs, gently moving towards her hip. _Sucker._

In one smooth motion she pulled a gun from inside her vest, pistol-whipped the man, and pinned one of his arms under her foot in a way that he couldn't move without pain. She wished she could've been able to do _that_ eight years ago.

"Oh? Well I'll hurt you, sorry." She pulled the hammer on her small pistol back, making it click.

"Argh!" His face was twisted with pain. "Get off of me bitch!" He writhed, but every motion got his arm more pain. "What do you want?!"

"Who is getting you this drug?"

"Like I'd tell- ARGH!" She put more force down on the arm.

"Who is getting you the drug?"

What the dealer said next made her freeze, her blood run cold, no matter how much she expected it.

"SALAZAR!" She let up on him. He made an exasperated noise, pain being relieved. "A man named Salazar…"

_Shit._ She thought. _But he's dead, Leon killed him so there's no way it could really be the same guy… _"What do you know about him?"

"I know he gets us this drug."

"Don't be a smart ass." She stepped down on his arm.

"STOP! Stop! I don't know much, okay! He's American but I don't know much else."

"Height? Age?" _American…? That's a good sign..._

"I don't know! I haven't ever stood next to the guy and found out, I only see him every so often. He's a little taller than you, I think. All I know is he gets us the drug and takes 50% of the money we make from the sales. He's the best guy I've ever worked for, he's made my family's life better…"

"Save your sob-story." She got off of the man's arm and pocketed her gun. She grabbed the box of Black Velvet capsules and glared hard at the groveling man before her. "Not a word of this gets to Salazar, alright? Keep your mouth shut and your family keeps their good life." She started to walk out.

"Wait!" the man cried out. She stopped and turned. "His first name is Rich, I remember. Rich Salazar. He has a route he runs every couple of months. My place is the first he hits, and it's been a week since he dropped the stuff off. He'll be in a place called Los Musgo" She nodded and turned. "Don't say I didn't do anything for you guys… I'm only in this for my family. Please don't let them hurt my family."

She left him there, making no promises. _If you cared about your family you would've just taken the money and not tried anything else…_

Now she had a name and a lead. The surname she expected, but by no means wanted. The first name was different, which made her feel a little better about this whole thing. Salazar was actually a common name. But what got her was this guy ran a route, set enough that the dealers knew, at least a little well, what it was. Either he wanted to be found, or he was an idiot. Whatever the case was she was going on a little adventure.


	3. Leads (Ch 1-2)

Los Musgo was very small, hardly notable compared to the rest of the large cities that were a short drive away. What made this place special was that it was a black-market hub that crawled with the wrong and worst types of people, looking for the best deals on items the public world frowned upon. Some of the highest-profile criminals made their business here, so it would make sense that the dealer's dealer would be selling here.

The agent wove between the alleys, careful not to look at anyone the wrong way. The slightest glace could get her pinned into a fight that would drive her Salazar away, if he was a typical bad guy. She watched where people gathered, listened to the words said, but couldn't tell where to go. No one was talking about the drug or the man, only other wares of a pirate nature, nothing biological.

She stood in one of the wide alleys, listening intently. Above the bustle of the place, she could hear an announcer of some kind. Fast-speaking, but clear. An auction. The biggest names usually show up at auctions, or so the movies and books claimed. If there was any place to start, it would be there.

Like a cat she smoothly made her way to the building where she heard the announcing from; a half-fallen place that might've been beautiful at one point, but had crumbled and grown decrepit from over the course of time and misuse. Shady types huddled around the windows, watching the processions inside, but a window seat was not going to do for the agent. She eyed a burly bouncer from behind her sunglasses, knowing that he could tell she was watching. She tilted her head as she walked at him, and he waggled his nose as he assessed what kind of a threat she was. In the end, he must've not been too afraid as he opened the door for her. But he did look her over with suspicion as she passed.

This place had been a church, judging from how the stone seats lined up on the floor. The inside must've been gorgeous, the last hints of beautiful colorations showing from under the dust, depicting scenes of a biblical air. The agent had never been too fond of religion as a life-guide, but she loved the artwork and the fantasy of something greater. The announcer was speaking in Spanish, but selling in dollars. Beside the price-preacher, underneath the broken stained-glass at the opposite end of the room, a glass case sat. Inside was a ring of gold-gleaming metal encrusted with little gems. It was an ugly thing, but likely worth a large sum. Prices were getting high, up in the 700 thousands, for this little thing. Likely it was stolen from a museum, the only plausible reason for it to be in an under-ground auction like this.

The agent watched the various patrons, trying to figure out each one's intent. Most of them seemed bored, disinterested, with a handful actually engaged in the auction (those that had money on the trinket). Most of them were dark-skinned, dark-haired, wearing things to hide their faces and protect them in a personal way. Almost everyone had a couple of compatriots that followed them, bodyguards and employees ready to take down any threat to their boss. This place did have more explosive potential than the U.S. Congress, after all.

She made her way over to the side wall, listing off the most interesting looking patrons. The dealer from before said the guy could've been about her height, and was definitely American, but those details didn't make anything easier. And knowing his name wasn't very useful, since it wasn't like she could yell it and expect him to say "here!".

A man noticed her, she noticed. He was wearing sunglasses just like the rest, and his hands glinted with rings that were quite old and well-kept. He kept looking in her direction, but why? Her hood was drawn, her eyes covered in aviators as big as his, and what skin was showing made her look stringy and druggie-like, the look she was going for. Maybe he thought she was going to be easy, like the other guy back in Madrid. He was alone, and judging from the stains of dirt he had been watching this for a while and was likely bored. Finally, the agent turned her head in his direction, and he smiled a friendly smile, flashing white teeth at her. _Maybe he could help me…_ she returned the smile and started to walk away. When she looked back at the guy, he looked worried but hopeful as he walked after her.

"So what brings a pretty lil' thing like ya t' a dingy ol' place like this," he said when she let him catch up to her.

"Just looking around," she cast another smile at him, trying to entice him. But he didn't get closer like she'd hoped. He was American, with a thick east-coast accent, though she had a hard time trying to remember what region to place it.

"No one comes here jus' t' look around." He stopped, and so did she. She turned and looked him over, noting his black leather blazer and dark dress pants. He had money, but at the very least no large items on him.

"Then what're you doing? You don't look like you've gotten anything." She approached him and played with one of the lapels of his jacket. He was only a few inches taller than her, and kind of thin. He wasn't strongly built, definitely weaker than the dealer, so she could easily interrogate him if they went somewhere private.

"Nah, haven't seen any o' what I'm usually here for, yet," he slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants and smiled at her. "Though maybe there's somethin' that'll catch my eye." He was interested in her, but why wouldn't he touch her? She couldn't guarantee he would follow her far enough to a quiet place until he returned her a touch. She trailed her hand up the breast of his jacket, slowly bringing both hands to his shoulders, but he started to back away. _Shit._

"What's the matter?" she said coyly. He was the only guy who'd seemed interested in her in that lot. She wasn't going to let this easy opportunity slip.

"Aah, nothin'." He obviously lied, adding a little laugh at the end as if to reassure her. _God men are stupid_. He stepped closer to her and put a hand gently around the back of her neck to draw her close, but before he could do anything she put a finger up to his lips.

"Nu-uh. This is a little too public for me. Come on, you, let's find a quieter place…"

She led him deeper into the alley, until they reached a dead-end. There was a crate, large enough to hide them if they went behind it, so that she could take care of him without the worry of intrusion. She was going to figure out what he knew, no matter what.

She playfully pushed him into the corner and threw her arms around his head. The agent used what she remembered from high-school, when dating wasn't serious, to fool men. The criminals seemed to like it when women threw themselves at them, but this guy didn't seem too into the whole thing. He cringed a little as her hands fell near his neck, weird. But he lifted off her glasses and leaned in all the same. She hated kissing the assholes she wanted to interrogate, so she dodged it and started to lift his aviators. They were the same type, color and all, as hers. But he didn't let her do that either. He laid his hand over hers and took it down. He started to push her away, nicely, but it wasn't good for her chances at him.

"Listen, I like ya and ya're cute an' all, but I can't do this right now…" He was genuinely upset. "I want t', but I can't."

_You're a con-man, I'm doing everything to throw myself at you!_ "Oh…" she backed off. "Why not?" She tried to sound more hurt than angry.

"Personal reasons…" He was telling the truth, from all that she could tell. A vague answer that could've meant a lot of things. The agent really didn't have time for this, so she began to reach into her vest for her gun. She took her eyes off of the man for a second, and when she looked back up, something gold glinted in her face. An old, blue and gold bracelet that he was holding up to her. "Take it." He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand.

She gently lifted it from him and examined it. It was real gold, not some of the fake stuff anyone wore nowadays. And it really was beautiful. Why was he giving it to her? She bit her lip, thinking hard. _Maybe violence isn't necessary for this guy…_

"Could I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure." He messed with his sunglasses.

_This guy is the worst sucker of them all…_"Does the name 'Salazar' mean anything to you?"

He laughed as he moved from the corner. "It does."

"Really? Where is he?" _Shit that was too hasty…_

"Y'know, ya don't look like ya do Velvet…" he lifted his glasses to look at her better, but hurriedly set them back down. That flash of the eyes though… _I've see that kind of eye before… _"What's it to ya?"

"Just wondering…" she dug the ball of her foot into the dry dirt. He shifted on his own feet and looked down the alley, turning his back to her for a long moment. Along his neck, she noticed, was some sort of black thing that went under his skin. Her breath caught in her throat. He turned back to her and smiled another kind smile.

"Ya're lookin' at him."

She was frozen. He frowned. She wasn't hiding her fear any more, she couldn't. _Las Plagas…the eyes, that thing… oh God no…_

"Oh shit, did ya see it?" He reached up for his neck before cursing under his breath. "Every single time…shit!" But he stopped and looked up, mouth agape, when he heard the click of her gun.

"BSAA, I… I'm arresting you… on behalf of world security…" she was shaking, the gun was shaking, her voice was small and timid.

"BSAA? Seriously?" The corner of his mouth twisted into a sneer of disbelief. He took off his sunglasses to look at her with the pale-yellow eyes of the dominant Plaga. "I knew youse guys would find me, but that flirtin' bull was really unda'handed. I'm hurt!"

_Why aren't you scared? There's a gun pointed right at you! It can still kill you despite that thing in you..._

"Listen, just let me go, girl. Ya're not the agent I wanted. Tell Redfield and Alomar that they are th' perfect ones for this job, because those are the two we need." He held no hint of fear. "It's a shame…" Something grabbed her arm and pulled the gun from her hand faster than she could react. He held her chin tenderly and flashed his teeth at her again. "…I really like ya…" She could see tendrils coming from inside his jacket, from around his back, and one of them was holding her arm. She felt herself going into a panic as her vision flashed, her heart rate accelerated, and her muscles began to ache. Too many bad memories resurfaced at once. He released her, but lowered her gently against the wall as she couldn't be steady on her feet. "Relax, I don't want to kill ya. Ya've got a message t' give t' those otha' shits. Lemme guess, this mission wasn't autha'rized, was it? Ya little rebel." He laughed. "That would explain why ya're all alone."

"Salazar…" she said slowly and with fear. There was no coincidence, there couldn't have been. He looked down and away, putting on his sunglasses, before responding with a half smile.

"Yep."

_Wait… but… you're lying?_

"You can keep the bracelet. Think of it as a token o' my affection."

He left her there with her gun, and she watched him happily walk away from the little dead end alleyway.

The way he moved, his tone, it was too clear to her. He was lying…


	4. Leads (Ch 1-3)

"You are not going."

"But I-"

"I said no."

The female agent followed her boss through the halls of the BSAA base like a dog that wanted outside. He would hear nothing of her pleas, none of her evidence, he only told her no and scolded her.

"Listen to me, please! All of what I found points to the castle. He-"

"You were told not to do anything more with the case. You are not mentally prepared to deal with B.O.W.s, you almost lost your life back there!" He stopped and rubbed his forehead in irritation. "And you went without a partner. I don't want to say I don't trust you, but we have no way of knowing if what you tell us is the whole truth. We always send you guys in pairs for a reason; if we screw up, it looks far worse than if the G-men do, and we can't afford to spend our resources if we don't have the guarantee that this is a good lead. You need a valid witness, which you do not have."

The female agent sighed heavily, saddened. He put his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to reassure her.

"You have so much going for you. You're smart and good at your job, but we all know that if you went on a mission to that place, you would get too emotional. It's like how we couldn't get Redfield on a mission for a long time after what happened to Jill. Salazar Castle means something to you, something that could hurt you if there really is a threat there." He patted her shoulders, this time he was making a plea to her. "Forget about this mission, Ashley."

She closed her eyes and sucked in a heavy breath. "Okay…"

"It's what your father would want."

"It's what my father would want…" she said solemnly, walking away. He was right. The second she went back to the castle, it would be the Kennedy Report all over again. Ashley Graham, the President's daughter, helpless and scared and unable to do anything against the Illuminados. But that was the whole reason she chose to join the BSAA. She had seen something horrible and had been unable to do anything to stop it herself, like a girl out of a Hollywood movie. She felt this deep need to help after all of that, but also a longing for the excitement that had come with what happened; that adrenaline rush, the surreality that she never got trying to live a normal life. This Black Velvet thing would be the first major case for her, the golden ticket to making her feel like a hero, and her damn issues with the past was going to screw it up.

Ashley sat at her computer and laid her head down on the desk, the stress of keeping her anger in taking a toll on her. There was so much to be done, and not enough time to do it, let alone the resources if her boss kept holding out on her in this way. She played with the bangle that R.S. had given her, and wondered if there was some ulterior meaning to it. He'd given it to her before she said anything about being an agent, so maybe it really was just a gesture of some weird affection, or maybe… she looked at it more deeply and chewed on the inside of her lip. It was Spanish, 16th century (when she was younger she learned to tell the signs of jewelry-age). It was a clue that said everything but only to those who knew what to look for.

Because on the inside of it, where the metal had been worked with fire, there was the parasite symbol of the Illuminados.

She put it back on and considered her choices. To her, the argument was plain and valid: The man used the initials R.S., and the name Salazar. Above having the traits of someone with the plagas, he gave her a bangle that carried the symbol of a cult another Salazar had belonged to. He wanted to be found, he even requested for certain agents to be sent (a fact that she'd left out when talking to her boss). That guy was crying out for attention from the BSAA so he was leaving a trail for those who knew what to look for to follow, each piece of the puzzle pointing at that damned castle.

There couldn't be any arguing. She had to go, had to make sure that this was something real. She had started to put the pieces of the puzzle together and the tease of the big picture being found was too much for her to resist at this point. Around her wrist was the piece of evidence that would set her mission in real motion, a piece that no one could ignore.

Ashley's knuckles knocked against the wall. Her boss turned with a start from his work and exhaled harshly.

"What's up, Graham?" He smiled at her reassuringly. He was always a kind guy to her, though in general he seemed pretty detrimentally passive.

"I have your evidence." She slid the bangle across his desk.

"Not this again…" he picked it up and looked it over. "Okay, it's an old piece of jewelry. Tell me what you found."

"It's Spanish, from the same era that the castle had been built."

"This could've been purchased anywhere. What makes this different?"

"Look at the band, on the inside."

He obeyed, and for a few moments his eyes shifted from her to the band repeatedly as he held an unenthused expression. He shifted in his seat, set the band down and set his hands in a steeple. "And that guy you encountered in the town gave this to you, after claiming that he was our R.S.? That the Salazar name applied to him?"

"Yep." She crossed her arms and smiled triumphantly.

"Okay. I guess…" he sighed and shrugged. His expression was mocking, just like his tone. "I guess you have a mission…" he paused and thought. "Did you run this through any scans? Fingerprints and all?"

"Yeah, they came back with a different man, one who has been dead for a few years. False fingerprints are likely; I don't think this guy is too dumb."

"Alright. I'll grant you permission to investigate the castle. You can leave right away-"

"Yes!" She pulled her arm back and began to turn.

"BUT," her boss added. "You are going to have a partner, and you are going to wait for them before you do anything. Do you understand?"

"Affirmative," she said proudly, but also a little mockingly.

This puzzle was just getting started, and now Ashley had the means to finish it.


	5. Cat and Mouse (Ch 2-1)

Ashley rubbed her ears tenderly as she sat on a platform near the entrance of the castle grounds. After this amount of time they _still_ ached from the headset she had to wear while she was on the helicopter. The pilots were less-than-discreet when they dropped her off, but, in their defense, no signs of life were evident from above. She remembered the areas of this place all too well; the rabid Ganados that chased her and Leon, those horrible sounds as he fought the town leader. _And all I did was hide, all I could do…_ Everything seemed as dead as it was after she and Leon left. Even the gondola was no longer running.

She was bored as she waited for her partner's ride to arrive, as she had already been waiting on the overlook for half an hour. This is why she hated being assigned someone to work with: They were always late. Even when they were from a more local place, like this one was supposed to be, they or their rides always seemed to take their sweet time while she waited in the open. Ashley sighed and cleared her mind from the dislike of working with a partner, instead trying to remember where each piece of equipment was on her person. She hadn't changed her outfit much, only exchanging the sandals for boots and wearing a tee under the vest. She was also equipped with holsters and pouches, tactical but light. She messed with one of the straps absently, but the boards behind her creaked.

"Ah've nevah fahgotten a face, an' yahs is right familiah," a gravelly, cockney-English accent commented from behind Ashley, in a place where no one could've been hiding before. She turned to see a large shadow with red-glowing eyes looking down on her.

"So's yours," she replied calmly, lying just a little as she couldn't quite see his face, but she'd never actually seen more than his eyes. He meant no harm to her in the past, and so he likely wasn't going to be much of a threat now, as she remembered that voice clearly. It was that merchant who'd helped Leon out so many times before, always seeming to have the right things at the right time in the right place. "You're still around here? Isn't everyone dead?"

"Ah solicit th' people who trahvel through, tourists 'n' such, an' Ah m'self trahvel 'round. Still a good prahfit from that," he said with a laugh, stepping from the darkness. Still the same old blue overcoat, the kerchief covering his face and the large pack overflowing with goods. Eight years hadn't been enough to change this guy, it seemed. "Wut're ya on about, comin' back 'ere? Wa'n't it somethin' like Hell fo' yah in that dump?"

She shifted in her seat, considering what details would be safe to share with this guy. "Looking for someone. Rumor has it that the castle is no longer abandoned, and the person who has taken up residence there is selling something bad. As far as Hell, there are things far worse things in the world than what I went through…"

He crossed his arms and looked her over. "Well, Ah at least would know nothin' about th' rumahs…"

"I have nothing to pay you out with, so don't try to get me to." She knew his games, everything had a price to him.

"Heh, maybe next tahm," he said as he walked around her, his wares clinking and clanking with each step. "Baht yah can find out if the rumahs are true yerself, can'tcha?"

"I'm supposed to wait for my partner. I can't do this alone… well, I'm not supposed to, anyway." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I hate working with people."

"Ya've been waitin' for a while, ya need to move around an' stretch a little. Ah'll wait 'ere fer 'em, an' point 'em in yer direction when they come 'round. Ah don't want ya loitering in m' business space."

Ashley smiled at him and bowed her head apologetically. "What, do you own this place or something? I have to wait for him, no ands, ifs, or buts…"

"Ah know ya don' wan' to. Go an' 'ave some fun. Aftah what they did t' ya Ah think ya deserve t' take it out o' that rusty ol' place."

She started to stand, considering her options. He was bothering her, acting like the devil on her shoulder for something that was really too dangerous to be conflicted about. But he had a point that echoed in her head. So what if she took a quick look ahead? It wouldn't mean much of anything as long as she just secured the entrance for their mission, making sure they wouldn't get ambushed. Besides, this merchant guy had been pretty cool before with helping, albeit for money and valuables. If his interest was in keeping the gold flowing, there was no sense killing someone who might be willing to buy from him later, right?

"Wait in th' castle," he said, a final urge. She rolled her eyes at him and left, sauntering ever so slowly towards the half-open ornate door. " 'atta gahl…" He sat on the bench and watched her go. He couldn't help but think that she didn't seem like the same girl from before, but time can do that to a person. He just found himself hoping that she was strong enough to go back there. A dead customer doesn't pay well.

_I heard something out there…_

"Yea, ya did. It looks like th' BSAA followed the trail easily enough. Like kids t' candy."

_Who was sent? Can you tell?_

"Nah, th' cameras don't pick up stuff that far. I only installed them 'round-"

_I do not care about where you installed them. I care if you know who our guests will be._

"Well excuse me, Lord Sass. There was one coptah that landed, too far away to tell who got out. What I could get out o' the transmissions makes it sound like two agents are expected, but I dunno…"

_Something is wrong._

"It's been a while since th' first one landed. I figyahed that maybe they were comin' in togethah or somethin', but th' bugs in th' field tell me only one person was left behind. I know it would've been a little bit for th' next one to show up, but half-a-hour is pretty damn late for those guys… Somthin's fishy."

_Then we will deal with the one who has made it. It will be less trouble for us that way, and as it is I do believe we are both very bored. Am I right to assume that taking care of the capture won't be a problem for you?_

"Hehe, o' course. It looks like they're ringin' our doorbell right as we speak. What say we give them a warm welcome?"

_Just remember that we need them alive. Scare them as much as you want, but do not get them killed._

"I remembah. Now stop talkin' t' me with this bullshit like we're the shining or somethin', I have t' change my damn shirt because of ya! We need t' find a bettah way t' talk, 'cause th' blood from this gets all over the place…"


	6. Cat and Mouse (Ch 2-2)

Ashley's boots made dull thuds as she stepped onto the stone of the building. The entrance halls, long and daunting, and somewhat unfamiliar, were where she stalked. She'd taken a route she hadn't seen before, with a desire to cover as much ground as she could to prevent ambush. Her gun was drawn, held aiming downward with both hands wrapped around the handle, ready for anyone or anything to jump out at her from the darkness. She looked around, noting that the building had fallen just a little more into disrepair with giant cobwebs spanning the ceilings and rubble piling up in nearly every corner. The only light was provided by the sun from the outside, and that only reached so far into the halls of the entryway. Boards had been put up over the windows at one point, but they'd disintegrated or been torn apart since then, those holes offering the dim illumination.

The most interesting things, Ashley noted, were the thick tubes running along the floor. From them, little tendrils branched off and ran along the walls to the ceiling before being eaten by the darkness, leading to things unknown. _Well, it's a good a time as any for my flashlight…_

She patted her pockets for a moment before finding the one her light was in. It clipped onto her gun, and so wherever she aimed would be nice and clear, easy to pick out her targets. Just how she liked it. She scanned the dark corners of the hall with the light until she saw a glint. A small reflection, revealing a small black mass on the wall.

_What is…?_

The end of the hall lit up. Then the area after that, then the next place, the lighting of the various gas torches quickly coming at her as if the light were a beast charging.

_Wumf_

_Wumf_

The whoosh of the flames added to that feeling, and she found herself ducking behind a large stone, peering over the top to make sure no creature really was coming for her.

_Wumf_

_Wumf_

Then it stopped, the whole place lit up, clear as day.

After all the lights had lit, it was silence. No movement, no noise but for the flames. _Well that was random…_

She looked again at that little black mass, now able to see it just a little better. A lens, the slender tubular shape, the little speaker underneath it; it was a camera. She glared at it, at the dent it made in her mission's security, and raised her gun. With a loud pop, the camera was a burst of flame and debris.

"You're not going to get a jump on us that easily." She unclipped the light.

With a screech of interference, a light on the speaker beneath the destroyed device started blinking.

"I hope ya have enough bullets, then. This place's got more cameras than th' White House, makes me feel a li'l like Big Brotha." The static-laden voice laughed. "_Alwaaays waaatchin'_," he said with a sing-song tone.

Ashley started to run down the halls. She didn't want to risk responding to the intercom, however much she wanted to retort that the White House at least looked like someone lived in it. _Keep it to yourself. Smart-assery gets you killed…_

"Oh, are ya runnin' away now? This party has just gotten stahted and ya're leavin' so soon? Maybe ya just wanna meet th' host, yeaaaah."

There were cameras and intercoms everywhere. Nowhere was safe, and the voice couldn't leave her, the only thing she could do was run and make a turn and run some more, until she was unsure of her location within the place. In retrospect, maybe leaving the place would've been a better idea.

"Tell ya what, if ya just stop an' lay down ya gun now, I'll kill ya fastah."

"Do you ever _shut up?!_" she screamed. That moment of distraction was too much for her, and her foot caught on a stone. She slammed into the ground and slid a distance, coming to rest at a four-hall intersection.

"Heeey, I remembah you!" No more static.

Ashley looked up. Sure as Hell, it was the man who claimed to be Salazar. She glared as she slowly stood. Thankfully she hadn't lost her gun the fall, so she steadly aimed it at him. He was holding a walkie-talkie, his means of taunting her through the intercom.

"What? Not feelin' too sweet on me anymore?" Still the gun didn't faze him. He stood relaxed, free-hand in his pocket, mugging at her like an old friend. He still wore the leather blazer from that day two weeks ago, but his shirt and pants were now black. No sunglasses, now that he had nothing to hide from her. He was really unattractive, she noted, with a high-hairline and scruff on his chin. And on top of the Plagas' discoloration, his eyes were just plain weird. _God, and to think I almost made out with that!_

"You are under arrest on the behalf of world security."

He started to clap. "Great! Ya got it down this time!"

"Stand down, now!"

He threw his hands out and spun around slowly. "I don't have any weapons, so what exactly am I standin' down from? If ya're gonna give me an ordah, make sure-" he stopped and cringed. "Ouch, shit…" he mumbled before drawing a piece of tissue from his jacket. He held it to his ear and glared at Ashley, the humor gone. " 'nough bullshittin', I guess." He made a motion with the hand that held the walkie.

She heard a soft scuff behind her. The agent jumped back and threw a roundhouse kick towards the source of the noise, making contact with something along the way. The sound of a squishy impact happened after she landed and took a ready stance. A Ganado of some kind, she assumed based on the fact that it looked human. It didn't move any more.

"Damn that is hot," the man said. She turned back to him, fighting the urge to ask if that was all he had. He took the tissue from his ear, it now covered in red, and crossed his arms. "If I was you, I wouldn't be getting' so distracted this soon. I know ya like me, but we can talk about that later." He pointed behind her, back down to the three other halls.

More Ganados charged, too many for her to take on at once. And some were big, likely mutations. She started firing into their crowds, rapidly letting off carefully aimed shots, watching them fall and the others stumble over them. _I am so sorry, I should've waited for you_, she thought solemnly as she realized the situation was nothing short of hopeless. She hoped her partner would be better off when he showed up. She threw down her gun in frustration, now that it was empty, and turned to the man, who was smiling at her with a horribly cheesy grin.

"Ya done?"

She nodded.

"Cool, that was a lot more painless than I was expectin'." He narrowed his eyes at her. He was aware that this was something to be suspicious of, he wasn't a dumb man. "So where's yer partnah?"

"I'm alone."

"Again? Boy, they jus' wanna get rid of ya as fast as they can." He scratched his nose. "Seriously, do not bullshit me. Where are they? You'se guys always come in twos or more."

"They haven't reported, I believe they are not coming." No sense lying.

"Hm," he thought about something, then shrugged. He leaned close to her, holding her by the harness for her equipment. "Are ya jus' that desperate to be alone with me?" Something slipped around her wrists, a familiar sensation. Those tendrils, no doubt. He stepped away and her arms came forward, bound by the Plagas vines. This time they came from the man's sleeves, so as he walked it was like a child with a pull toy. "Come on, lemme get ya to a place a little more comfortable. I got a cell in the dungeon jus' callin' yer name." He sighed, sadly. "Too easy, ya should've fought more, y'know. Th' struggle makes things more interestin' for th' rest of us. But I guess vidya games have ruined me." He laughed as the nostalgia trip commenced.


End file.
